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Lara shuddered. ‘You’re joking!’
He studied her. A small moonstone necklace gleamed against her pale skin, and it took a supreme effort not to be completely distracted by the soft shadows of her cleavage. She wasn’t all skin and bones, like a lot of actresses and models.
‘How come you stay so slim?’ he questioned.
‘I only eat when I’m hungry, and I walk wherever possible.’
‘Even in London?’
‘Especially in London—it’s the best way to avoid the traffic and to see the city properly!’
He ordered, waited until red wine had been poured for them, then sat back in his seat, his fingers caressing the deep bowl of the glass.
‘So.’
Lara took a mouthful of wine, needing something to help her relax, to take her mind off the fact that his mouth had softened and she was wondering what it would be like to kiss it.
She smiled. ‘So.’
‘What shall we drink to?’ He raised his glass, his eyes questioning. ‘The new face of Wildman?’
‘Why not?’ Her heart was beating very fast as their glasses touched.
‘Soon to be emblazoned on posters all over the country,’ he mused. ‘How does that feel—knowing that your face will be everywhere?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she said slowly. ‘I’ve never done a poster campaign before.’
‘But you’ve done other kinds of advertising—television, magazines.’
‘A bit.’
‘And does it feed the ego?’
It was a mocking challenge. A faintly hostile question. ‘Not really. Actors are notoriously insecure,’ she said, taking another sip of wine. ‘Didn’t you know that?’
He shrugged. ‘That’s the theory, but if that’s the case, then it strikes me as an odd type of profession to choose.’
‘Maybe the two are inseparable. Maybe it’s because they’re insecure and don’t feel comfortable in their own skins that they’re able to inhabit someone else’s so easily.’
The curve of her breasts gleamed softly beneath the cream silk. ‘I can’t imagine that you feel uncomfortable in your own skin,’ he observed quietly. ‘When you’re so very lovely.’
Lara quickly put her glass down before he could see that her hand was shaking. The compliment warmed and yet alarmed her. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Her body was not supposed to be tingling and glowing
and basking in his approbation as a cat would contentedly lap up the warm rays of the sun. This was not a date, this was a fact-finding mission, pure and simple.
If she wasn’t careful then they would spend the whole time talking about her, or, even worse, his wretched company, and then, before she knew it, the evening would be gone and she might never have this opportunity again.
The waiter came over, and she waited until he had deposited two dishes of steaming prawns before them.
She speared one uninterestedly. ‘Anyway,’ she said brightly. ‘You know something about me, but I know absolutely nothing about you.’ Other than that your contained and watchful silence makes me feel as jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof.
‘But I thought that all actresses were self-centred and like nothing better than to talk about themselves?’
‘It’s very insulting to continue making those sweeping statements.’ Lara narrowed her eyes. ‘Though I suspect that’s why you said it—to try and stop me asking you questions about yourself.’
The golden eyes bored into hers. ‘You’re very persistent,’ he observed.
‘I think persistence is an undervalued quality.’
